


The heart wants what it wants

by M_Mortimer



Category: British Actor RPF
Genre: Bisexual Female Character, Established smart-ass character, F/M, Male-Female Friendship, Smut, and so does Richard apparently, pure as heck, we love a woman who knows what she wants
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-27
Updated: 2020-01-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:14:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22437010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/M_Mortimer/pseuds/M_Mortimer
Summary: When an old friend came knocking at her door the day after she had returned from a film location, when he told her to take two weeks off before joining him for a 3 year project that had her giving the orders and manning the workstations; Caitriona didn’t even let him finish the proposal before saying yes.“What’s this project called then? What have I got myself roped into?” there was mischief in his eyes, refusing to answer, "At least tell me where it is then?""Little island in the Pacific, you've been there before love, don't you worry,"
Relationships: Richard Armitage/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 4





	The heart wants what it wants

There was never a time when she wasn’t working, going from job to job, set to set, payroll to payroll without even a few days rest between to recuperate. It wasn’t that she was clinging on by one financial thread, no, she was relatively well off from these jobs, paying her well for the perfected and professional skills she had; it was just that she couldn’t say no to them, to the opportunities they offered her, a chance to move on and up in the world.

So when an old friend came knocking at her door the day after she had returned from a film location, and when he told her to take two weeks off before joining him for a 3 year project that had her giving the orders and manning the workstations; Caitriona didn’t even let him finish the proposal before saying yes. Peter seemed pleasantly relieved when she signed the contracts and told him the details of her new bank account, one specifically for her jobs abroad, shaking her hand and accepting the bottle of cider she presented in celebration. He told her that he couldn’t stay long, but remained with her for a further 3 hours, complimenting her home and her appearance, telling her she had really grown up since he had last seen her. Caitriona only blushed and nudged him in the ribs, presenting a hefty manuscript which bared a title that went completely over his head,

“Damn, you’re the most overqualified make up artist I’ve ever hired,” he leafed through the thick pages, coming across pictures of human skulls and clay busts of men once found a thousand years ago, “Might not be able to afford you soon,”

Caitriona laughed, “Oh don’t worry, I would come to work for you for free,” they clinked the rims of their bottles together and sunk further down into her sofa, “What’s this project called then? What have I got myself roped into?” She asked after a moment’s silence and Peter’s phone buzzed urgently,

“Just a little thing,” he tapped out a text and stood up, “You’ll be in familiar territory, don’t worry,” Caitriona showed him the front door and he tucked her under his shoulder for a second, “I’ve booked you an air b’n’b, plane leaves tomorrow,” he opened the door and stepped into the chilly Cornish air, “Might get you to scout some locations for me,”

“Where though?” Peter gave her two plane tickets from his wallet, waltzing down her garden path and through her rusted metal gate, stopping next to a muddy but rather swanky Land Rover,

“New Zealand,” the car sped off with the windows down and thunder shook the clouds up ahead,

“No way,”

* * *

Caitriona was never one to sit around doing nothing for two weeks, so she booked herself in a day at the spa and a weekend yoga getaway, planning to spend the rest of her holiday hiking the landscape of her most favourite place in the world. Peter had given her a few locations he and his team had already scouted, urging her not to go alone over the phone and relaying a few numbers, partners who could help her navigate the dangerous terrain of New Zealand. She had fallen in love with the barrenness, the raw and harsh landscapes of the north island and the tropics, the familiar sea cliffs and billion year old forests of the south island, revisiting the places she had been before, setting up in her trailer with boxes of skin safe glue and a chef’s blow torch, standing by the cameras with a team of people with similar skills to her, all itching to fix the damage after Peter shouted ‘cut’. It had been almost 10 years since the filming for Peter’s most famous and successful franchise had finished, and Caitriona was please to see that the landscape had returned to what it was like before one hundred trailers and trucks had been stationed there. She was excited to return to those trailers, as a supervisor and not a scummy intern who rushed out to Starbucks and got everyone’s coffee orders wrong. Peter had scouted her only a few weeks after her graduation from University, emailing her and telling her that he’d read her dissertation and looked at the exhibition she put on in the local history museum, absolutely astounded at her skill in facial reconstruction and prothstetics. When she showed up to the interview with a port folio of her work and a replica skull of the first Homo Erectus ever found, moulded and sculpted by her own hands; Peter had hired her on the spot. It took her a little time to get used to the chemistry and logic of rubber and silicon, but her constant experimentation and practise brought her into the limelight on her very first day applying a fake nose to a dwarf. The glue she had used was of her own making, having slightly adjusted the ingredients of an industrial standard one so that the rubber would stick quickly, stay on for longer and be easily dissolved off without damaging the skin or the rubber itself. It was her special recipe, one that got out into the rest of the studios and suddenly everyone was after it, even the guys who made the fake swords and armour.

Caitriona didn’t mind, it had got her a lot of friends and a lot of attention, from Peter and from his team, keeping her on for the three planned films and promising to call her if he made any more. It was a good decision of his to hire her, even though his partner told him recent graduates were complicated and clumsy, even though the producers sat him down and told him that they thought she was having an affair with one of the actors, even though the make up supervisor advised he let her go because she took on too much too soon and it threatened to make him look bad; Peter stood by her. And the fact she was in a relationship with a girl from the art department at the time, he had complete faith in Caitriona Teague.

* * *

The day started like any other on a film set, in the dark at 5 o’clock in the morning. Caitriona hurried to the prothstetics trailer bundled in her hiking jacket with a scarf wrapped tightly over her mouth. The orange lights filtered between the trailers, making it seem she was navigating through narrows streets and lanes, but the ramp up to her trailer, bigger than the others, came into her sights and she barrelled through the doors; immediately turning on the heater and blowing into her hands,

“Cold?” Andy sat in a swivelling chair at her workstation, legs crossed and a mug of coffee balanced on his knee, “You’re always cold,”

“Nice to see you too Andy,” Caitriona grumbled, her slight Cornish accent causing her to elongate the A in his name, “You’re not scheduled for me today, what do you want?”

Only she could get away with talking to him with that brash tone, running a cloth under the tap in the corner of the trailer before wiping down the mirrors along one wall,

“Damn, these should’ve been cleaned last night,” she sprayed the counters beneath the mirrors with something that smelled of lavender and wiped down the foundation stains and spots of glue, “Must’ve forgotten,”

“Done yet?” She knew Andy was still there, watching her with narrowed eyes and a tight smile, “You’ve grown,”

“I saw you yesterday,” she replied hastily, “And you’ve already told me that, and I’ve already told you that I have only grown out, not up,” Andy slid from the chair and pulled her into a hug,

“Looks good on you though, Pete said you’d been getting too skinny,” they looked at each other and Caitriona sighed, “I remember the first time I saw you on set, you were so scrawny,”

“I’m not a kid,” she bit back and Andy laughed,

“You were then,” they paused when the door on the trailer rattled, someone turning the handle,

“It’s just me boss,” another man entered, younger than the one kissing the top of her head, a little shorter and a little rounder, “Oh, hi Andy,” he turned to Caitriona, “Maggie and Sarah are with B team, they’re doing a scene with the Hobbits today and we’ve prep for the dwarves,”

Those words meant a very long morning for the two of them, and the old friend who kissed her head again was not helping push things along,

“Dean and Graham are due in a few minutes,” Caitriona slid from the embrace and began preparing several bushes and pots of glue, “You can choose who you want first,”

“I’d better get going,” Andy took their ignoring of him as a cue to leave and Caitriona gave him a sympathetic look, “I’ll see if I can pop by with some food later,” he exited the trailer,

“Bring biscuits!” Her voice followed him and he smiled, greeting the two men heading for where he had just come from.

Caitriona liked Graham, he was her favourite to work on because of his uncanny ability not to move. Dean on the other hand was giving Brian, her assistant, a rather difficult time,

“Please,” he stood back from the half stuck nose and took a short breath, “I can’t stick it down if you’re moving,”

“I want to see Cait,” Dean craned his head at her, “Good morning so far?” Brian went back to the nose, hunching around the actor as best he could,

“Better than Brian’s,” she grinned, applying setting power to the foundation on Graham’s nose, turning to a piece of paper containing several photos of the back of his head. She dipped her brush into black paint and began tracing the tattoos into his rubbery skin, following the guide he held up for her, “He’s right you know, you need to stay still otherwise the glue won’t set and the nose will come off,”

“But it’s too tight,” Dean wiggled in his seat and Brian guffawed,

“Seriously man?” He gave Caitriona a pleading look, “Can we swap, I’m better at makeup,”

“Tie him down,” Graham hadn’t spoke in a good while so when his gruff voice interrupted what Caitriona, she visibly jumped,

“Don’t get kinky on me Dwalin,” she scolded but put her brush down, “Sure Brian, you finish this while I do Dean,” the younger actor raised his eyebrows at her and she blushed, “Sit still, or I really will tie you down,”

Dean didn’t move a muscle after that, save for his eyes which followed her face and her fingers, delicately attaching hairs to his chin and upper lip, matching the wig on his head,

“Nearly done?” A voice chimed from the doorway and Caitriona looked up, stretching out her back from where she had been hunched in Dean’s face for the past hour. Graham had left some time ago with an apology to the make up department on why he was alone,

“Yeah,” she prodded Dean in the side with her powder brush, “Get to make up, you’ve made me behind schedule,” he pouted and bowed his head,

“Sorry, but you have nicer hands,” the comment made her roll her eyes, “And you look prettier than him,” Dean cocked his head over at Brian who was tending to a split palm on Ken, frantically trying to repair it and swearing beneath his breath,

“Turn it inside out,” she waltzed over to her assistant but not before jutting her thumb at the door, “You, makeup,” Dean winked at her and left, the new arrival taking his place at the counter, “Stitch it up and put some latex over it, mix it with a little silicon hydroxide and it should harden like rubber, maybe a 2 to 1 ratio?” The two men stared at her in disbelief, “What?”

“I always forget how smart you are,” Brian obeyed her without a second thought and Caitriona flushed, ducking her face, “Sure you don’t want to be a doctor?”

“Working on it,” she mumbled under her breath and she approached her new attendant, one who gave her a kind smile and reached for her fingers,

“I like to think I’m in capable hands, even without the titles,” Richard saw her cheeks turn purple and he laughed loudly

“Sit back,” Cait sanitised her hands and set to work, massaging vaseline and moisturiser into his skin before lifting his prothstetics from their stand and easing them into place, “Don’t move yeah?” He gazed up at her,

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” But he still did, knees knocking into hers and finger tips brushing the fabric of her shirt when she bent low over him to secure the fake nose over his real one, “Smells funny,”

She raised an eyebrow and took it back, inspecting it with careful and meticulous eyes,

“Did it fall off at any point yesterday?” He opened his mouth to ask why she didn’t know but hesitated, remembering that he was with the B team that evening and of course she wouldn’t know, because she wasn’t there,

“Maggie fixed it back on,” Richard replied and Cait tensed, filing through one of the drawers behind her and picking out a wipe, cleaning the inside of the rubber and smelling it again,  
“She used the wrong glue again,”

“Again?” Brian rose from the mess of Ken’s white wig, his fingers tangled in birds nests and knots, “What’d she use this time?”

“Hyperplex,” Richard didn’t understand why Brian rolled his eyes and he questioned Cait, “It’s a good glue, just not one I use or encourage because it tends to go a bit yellow when dry and it takes a lot of work to dissolve, which is why this nose smells,”

“She used vinegar to dissolve it, didn’t she?” Brian went back to the wig and Cait shrugged,

“I would have, it’s the only thing that does the trick,” she turned to Richard and took his chin in her hand, moving his face around so she could check for irritation, “You should have told me this happened,” it wasn’t a scolding but he couldn’t help but feel like he had disappointed her, “But it’s nothing I can’t fix, good thing I made a copy of this,” the nose was discarded among the fingers and toes in a jar labelled ‘bin’, and she pulled out a brand new one, dowsing it in talcum powder before applying it once again. Ken left as she was gluing down Richard’s wig, brushing the hairs out and quickly redoing a braid before tying it back out of his face. He had been transformed from the bleary eyed, fresh faced actor into the scruffy, noble and rather fetching dwarf. Wearing a shirt and joggers, Richard’s head looked far too large for his body and Cait chuckled when he downed a bottle of water,

“Off to costumes now,” she took the rubbish and binned it, dusting off his shirt from the setting powder and she plucked a stray hair from out of his eyes, her lips parting when he stared down at her. There was something under his gaze, a something Cait didn’t want to think about because that something would give her hope where there really couldn’t be any, “I’ll see you on set,”

“Yeah,” neither of them moved, subtly inching closer until Brian cleared his throat, leaning his hip on the counter and lifting a mug of tea to his lips, “Yeah, okay,”

Richard left and Caitriona crumbled into the seat he had just vacated with her head in her hands,

“What the heck Brian?” She scowled at her own reflection, “You couldn’t have done that earlier?”

“I like seeing you squirm,” he smirked, “And dear old Rich makes you _tremble_ ,”

“You’re disgusting,” Cait threw a sponge at him, “This is not good,” and Brian agreed, depositing his empty mug in the sink and moving to lean opposite her,

“What’re you going to do about it?” He interrogated and she looked up at him like he had suddenly started speaking German,

“Um - nothing?” She responded with an air of uncertainty, “I can’t do anything, it’s not allowed,”

“No one will know,” Brian grew excited at the thought, “Oh, it’ll be so scandalous you running around with the star of the franchise, an older guy, forbidden and kept a sexy, sleazy secret,”

Caitriona buried her head in her hands and groaned.

* * *

“You never were very good at keeping secrets from me,” Andy returned like he promised with a packet of pink wafers and a box of the jasmine tea he knew she liked, “What’s up?”

“She’s in love with Thorin Oakenshield,” Brian interrupted as he gathered his bag and coat, intending to head off site for lunch, and Caitriona launched a bottle of water at his head, “Okay, she’s in love with Richard,”

“Careful Brian, I can very easily find a new assistant,” her voice turned venomous but there was a glint of amusement in her eyes,

“No you can’t,” Brian pulled his hat on and saluted her, “There’s no one like me,”

Andy sat at Brian’s workstation and unloaded his lunch while Caitriona put the kettle on, pressing her forehead into the cardboard boxes above the kitchen area, containing various pallets of foundation and correcting concealer,

“Beef or beetroot?” Two boxes of salad awaited her, one with rare steak drizzled in horseradish and one with slices of roasted beetroot and sweet potato. She snatched the vegetarian one up and dug in, pleased to find he had brought wooden cutlery instead of plastic,

“Thanks,” she poured the tea and handed him the mug, “How’s it going today?”

Andy shook his head, “I thought you had a girlfriend?” The question caught her by surprise and Cait didn’t feel hungry anymore,

“She broke up with me, thought I focused too much on the job,” the memory withered her a little, “I understand she sought comfort in someone else, but it could’ve been after we’d broken up,”

“How long ago?” Andy was appalled since both he, and everyone else, thought they had been good for each other,

“Almost five years,” again, he was shocked, “Keep up old man, I’ve done a lot since we’d last seen each other,”

“Who?” Cait smacked him on the arm and he grinned,

“I thought I’d try and give the male population a go, switch it up a little,” she sipped her tea and swirled it around the mug,

“But I thought - you know, with Ella and all that - I never thought you would -,” Caitriona always found it both amusing and slightly insulting the way people would just ‘think’ and never ‘ask’, “I thought you were gay,”

Caitriona shook her head, “I’m open for anything,” something flashed in his eyes but she took no notice, “I just happened to be in a relationship with another woman when you got to know me the first time,”

“Do your parents know?” That flash disappeared and Andy leaned forward, abandoning his food,

“Hey, mum knew before I did, told me to stop thirsting after Gillian Anderson in X-Files and suggested I go to graduation with the lab tech I fancied,” she defended her parents, “And dad, he was just glad I was being sociable,” Andy raised his open palms in defeat,

“So, any others after Ella?” He felt nosy but Caitriona indulged him, telling him about one guy and their dates and how they’d never strayed further than holding hands, her legs staying firmly closed because of her inexperience; and she noticed that flash in his eyes return, “And what about Rich?”

She almost spat the lettuce from her mouth, “What about him?”

“Brian says you’re taking a liking to him,”

“Oh my god,” she thrust her salad on to the counter and grabbed her phone, “Oh my god,”

“Jesus Cait,” Andy nearly bowled over from the force she threw him from the chair, diving beneath the counter to retrieve her bag, medium sized and packed full with make up, brushes, prothstetics and glue,

“I’m supposed to be at the sound stage,” she downed the rest of her tea, pleasantly warm and she looked in the mirror for a moment, fixing her hair and rubbing a fleck of mascara from under her eye,

“You look very pretty,” Andy twirled her around and shunted her through the door, “Hop to it,” he tugged her into his side and kissed her head before going their separate ways.

* * *

Sarah stood below Ken, trying to pick leaves and bits of twig from his beard when Caitriona showed up, a little out of breath and red cheeked. She gave her boss a cheeky look,

“Nice of you to join us chief,” Caitriona blew hair from her face and set her bag down on a pop up table where Sarah had set her own things up, “Richard’s hands are getting sweaty and I forgot my powder,” she froze at the words, “He’s over with Agatha because he snagged his costume,”

For some reason, that made her feel a little better; the costume assistant was as beautiful as they got, soft limbed and all sloping curves, peach skinned and delicate fingers that attended to the hole in the overcoat nimbly, navigating the needle and thread expertly,

“Hi,” Caitriona knew his focus would be solely on the woman squeezing his thigh and cupping his elbow, so when she gave him a short wave as she jogged over; his eyes never left the fingers attending to his costume.

“Wait a second Kat,” Agatha lifted a finger and Cait paused, lifting an eyebrow, “I just need a few,”

Someone laughed loudly behind her and she turned to see Aiden waltzing over, a wide grin eating his features,

“The idiot tripped into a tree,” she couldn’t help but smile, “Peter got it on camera, it was hilarious,”

“Hey,” Cait observed his character, noting stupidly how much taller he was then her. All the people she worked on were taller than her, everyone was taller than her but it never seemed so when they were sat in her chairs, comfortably playing on their phones or idly chatting to her while she worked her magic to transform them,

“Hey what?” Aiden clicked his fingers in front of her and she grabbed his hand, inspecting the silicon, “Nothing’s falling off it that’s what your looking for, only Rich’s hand because he’s so sweaty,”

“That’s gross Aiden,” she didn’t want to look at Agatha giggling behind her, “He fell, he could’ve been hurt,”

“I don’t think so, nothing can get through this stuff,” he pinched the rubber covering his chin and it wrinkled, Caitriona scolding him and immediately smoothing it out with her fingers,

“Remember when Sean got glass in his foot?” Aiden looked at her blankly, “When Frodo and Sam leave the Fellowship? We were on location and Sean went into the river, stepped on a broken bottle and the glass penetrated through the prothstetic,” the man shuddered at the thought, “Didn’t phase him much though, got airlifted out,”

“Caitriona,” Richard’s voice struck through her like lightning, startling her and she jumped away from them both, “My hands,”

“Course,” Aiden gave her a sly smile and sauntered off, “Which one? I have powder which can help the sweat and I’ll reseal the glue,” she avoided his penetrating gaze, “Here,” they were silent while she worked, something that never happened, especially between them, “You excited about location?"

“Mhm,” he hummed, looking over her head at his colleagues before returning his gaze to her, “You?”

“Of course, it’s my favourite part of filming anything!” Caitriona let herself blab on, “I had two weeks before my job here started so I went hiking round all the places from the last films and Peter gave me a list of all the places he scouted so I went there too - it’s all so beautiful and perfect,” Richard’s eyes didn’t leave her face and her hands working on his, dusting her fingers on her thighs and groaning when she saw the white stains, “All done,”

“I -,”

“‘Bout to start reshoots!” Someone shouted and Caitriona gave him a small smile, patting his shoulder and walking away, hurrying over to an extra to attend the shine on their forehead and the drooping of their chin. He ignored the call and continued watching her with dark eyes, Caitriona painfully aware that he was staring at her back,

“You know he wants you right?” Sarah put her hand on Cait’s as she reached for a bottle of water, “Real bad?”

“I know, I know! I don’t know what to do!” Cait drank the whole thing and set about readjusting her brushes, making sure her glues were properly labelled, arranging her pigments just right and dusting down her mirrors; anything to keep herself busy,

“Stop, calm down,” Sarah had this maturity about her even though she was only a few months older that Cait, “Don’t beat yourself up about this, Jesus,” her voice was soft and gentle, but quick, sharp so people around them couldn’t hear exactly what they were talking about, pulling Sarah pulling her away from the soundstage when someone shouted ‘action’, “Why are you so afraid? Wait - nervous, you’re completely freaking out over this and you really don’t need to,”

“I don’t mix work with pleasure, you know that Sarah,” Cait whispered desperately, “I can’t, not with him - he’s everything to this, the forefront of this whole bloody thing, we couldn’t -,”

“But you could? If this thing wasn’t going on? If you two had met in a coffee shop and he’d thought you looked pretty and bought you a muffin?” Sarah drilled, eyeing the woman in front of her; pale and wide eyed, doe-y like something had both utterly terrified her, and excited her,

“He wouldn’t do that, no one would - not for me,” Cait’s words almost got her a slap on the cheek, Sarah growling in anger,

“Stop being so fucking self-pitying, Caitriona, Christ - you’re supposed to be the put together one who takes no shit and knows exactly what she’s doing,” she knew she was speaking out of term, but Cait needed to hear this, even if it was during a time they were supposed to be silent, “You were fine like two weeks ago? What happened since then? One of the extras pinched your arse and you clapped him in the ears, mate you nearly deafened him but now? Richard looks at you like you’re the only person in the room, like he literally wants to eat you - oh,”

“Yeah,” Cait hid the embarrassed and ashamed tears filling her eyes, cheeks red hot and pulse thumping heavily, “It’s always been women before him, and Jason wasn’t the right person, not at that time,”

“I’m so sorry Cait oh my God, if I’d’ve known -,”

“You didn’t, it’s fine, you’re right,” Cait looked up at her friend with watery eyes, sniffing with a tight smile, “I’ve got to suck it up I guess, I like him and maybe I should let myself accept that he might like me back,”

Sarah put a hand on her shoulder in comfort, “Take it as slow as you want yeah? I guess the tough love my mam gives me doesn’t work on you,” they smiled at each other, “You ever want a hug or anythin’ just - you know, I’m right here and if you want advice, tips and tricks in the trouser department,” Sarah wiggled her eyebrows suggestively and Cait’s cheeks bloomed, “I’ve plenty experience with said dick,”

“Sarah!” Cait couldn’t help but giggle, the noise echoing out as the call for a break sounded, the hustle and bustle of the crew starting up again, several actors heading their way with sweat pouring down their foreheads and holding up shredded noses with frowns, “C’mon, back to work, Peter’s got an allergy to latex remember so careful with him and you can have Dean this time, keep his dirty paws off me,”

“There she is,” Sarah smiled proudly, saluting jauntily with a grin, “Missed you chief,”

“Don’t get too confident dear,” Cait sauntered away to the table, dragging Aiden and dabbing his forehead with a tissue before replying makeup, “Scene go well? I wasn’t watching,” she added after seeing his questioning look,

“What were you talking about? With Sarah?” He asked curiously, but a little held back, respecting her privacy and Cait blushed a little, remembering that Sarah told her to suck it up - get over everything she held against herself,

“Trying to make myself feel better about being a virgin I guess, the usual stuff girls talk about,” her words made him visibly choke on his breath and Cait admitted silently to herself, that she enjoyed his reaction, smirking before taking the visible lines of his prothstetic facial hair and blending them out,

“How old are you?” His cheeks were purple, even beneath the layers of silicon and foundation, “You gotta be what? Twenty two?”

“I’m flattered,” she looked up a him through her eyelashes, “I’m twenty five,”

“Damn,” Aiden let his fingers touch the thin skin of her wrist as she checked his hands, “that’s - something to think about,”

“Don’t get any ideas mister,” Sarah had been eavesdropping and she pushed Peter away, immediately assessing Dean’s face and added extras, “What is it with guys and virgins? Is it the power trip? Some weird-ass kinks you guys have - here, hold still,” her sponge exploded with setting powder and she sent Dean on his way, fulling knowing her words had him reeling and spluttering with questions, and propositions. Caitriona did the same with Aiden, sending him a pointed look and looking around for her next victim,

“Oh dear lord,” those eyes bored into her and lead dropped to the base of her gut,

“You have power here Cait,” Sarah unpicked several fake twigs from an extra’s wig, combing it out hastily, “See how those guys reacted? Bet he’s the same, use it - fucking own it Cait,”

“Hi,” that voice struck something inside her and Cait swallowed thickly, squeezing her eyes shut and repeating Sarah’s words to herself, “You got a line I can cut?”

“ _Own it_ ,” she whispered before turning around, looking him up and down with a lazy gaze, “Everything seems okay to me,” there was something in her tones, a little dark, a little heady,

“Ken said my wig doesn’t look right,” Richard noted the way she turned from temptress to caretaker in a second, admiring both in their separate ways,

“You didn’t snag it did you?” Cait turned off whatever deep want she held for him and retreated to the safety of what she knew, fingers reaching behind his neck for the strap and tugging slightly, “Doesn’t feel loose, maybe the glue’s gone too dry,” he visibly suppressed a shiver when those fingers went to his forehead, wrists close enough to his nose so he could inhale her perfume; something fruity, sweet, juicy. Nails scratched gently at the latex by his temple and she gave a small sigh, “I got extra hang on,”

Caitriona could feel his gaze on her back as she rummaged through her bag, picking the right latex and brush, turning back and finding him a great deal closer that before,

“You should probably sit,” she muttered, avoiding his eyes for a split second before shouting at herself, “Here,” Cait placed a hand on his chest and pushed him back, gently, professionally, making sure there was a chair behind him but when he sat down with a grunt; she daringly slotted herself between his knees and pressed his chin into an angle so she could apply the latex,

“Your fingers are cold,” Richard told her hastily, “Normally you’re warm,”

“Haven’t used them in a while,” the flash in his eyes shook her very bones and she hid a triumphant grin, forcing herself not to react when his knuckles pressed very subtly into the back of her thigh, “I’ll make sure to warm them up next time,”

“And how would you do that?” Cait silently praised him for setting himself up and she licked her lips, rubbing her thighs together but not obviously, just enough to give him an idea of how she would warm her fingers up. A growl bubbled in the back of his throat, “Careful Cait,”

“Oh?” She pocketed the tube and the brush, sliding her hands around his neck to readjust his wig, “Maybe - maybe -,” she swallowed, nails scraping his skin as she retracted her hands from his neck, “Maybe I don’t want to be careful,”

The blowing of his pupils and the quickening of his breath sent victorious chills down her spin, thighs rubbing together for a very real reason this time and she stepped out from his legs, not trusting herself to touch him anymore. She sent him one last heady look before telling him to be on his way, the director’s assistant alerting everyone that they were continuing reshoots for the rest of the day and he turned to answer, twisting back to find Cait had disappeared back to her table and to her own assistant.

* * *

Location was all that she remembered, and more. The first was the Shire, Hobbiton where she attended to hobbits and petted the animals they’d brought along for the authenticity; then it was the travelling shots, often only accessible by helicopter and Caitriona surprised all her assistants by her excitement of being so high in the air, embracing the biting winds of the mountains and bundling herself up to battle the cold, making sure her fingers were always warm when she tended to her actors. There was a whole scene based around the dwarves escaping down a river in barrels, the responsible actors clambering into safely made props and bobbing along the gentle currents of a pretty stretch of water surrounded by conveniently flat rocks and the greenest forest Caitriona had ever seen. The trailers were based a little way aways for safety reasons, land rovers and minibuses being recruited to ferry the necessary people down to the location; one of them being Caitriona, and her alone. The rest of her team were back at the studios dealing with the B-team shooting, or were taking the days off because Caitriona could handle this, she’d done it before on her own and she had thrived with the tiredness heavy in her eyes and the pressure threatening to bend her bones. But there was always a pretty colour on her lips and a fresh smell about her, that clean, just-showered kind of aura that made a lot of people gravitate towards her. Even when it was drizzly, grey weather; Caitriona stood beneath a wide black umbrella with a big bag slung over her shoulder and a bright smile on her face. The walking boots paired well with her black turtle neck and skinny jeans, warm but practical and the pale pink cap sat on her head reminded them that she was anything other than a makeup artist; the red curling words on the front of it saying ‘I brought Lucy back to life’, and a small embellished print of an early hominid skull sat just above it.

“I’m freezing,” Agatha clutched her hands beneath her armpits and shivered violently, “How’d you stay so nice looking? Surely you’re a little wet,”

The words made her flush and Caitriona glanced over at the dwarves floating about on the river, catching his eyes and heating up all over,

“I’m used to it, I worked on the first movies and Peter spent more than enough time up in the mountains during rainy season,” she explained a little breathlessly, Agatha’s lips curling into a tight smile,

“And he’s keeping you warm huh?” The older woman saw Caitriona’s cheeks darken and she chuckled, “Have to admit sweetheart, he keeps me warm too,”

The delicate grin gracing Cait’s lips disappeared with the words, “Yeah, I suppose so,”

“Sorry sweetheart,” Agatha touched her shoulder in mock comfort, “Did you really think you’re the only one he looks at like that?”

Caitriona didn’t answer, because she didn’t trust her own voice not to betray her true feelings, and because Peter had closed the set for the day, calling for them to get the hell out of there. She heard the rain before it arrived, drumming down on the forest floor and the road before unloading on to her umbrella and the gazeboes set up for breaks and makeup. Agatha retreated to where her team were stationed, along with the rest of the crew but Caitriona dumped her bag and struggled through the throng of people herding towards her, holding the umbrella up high so to not poke anyone. The rocks were slippery even for her boots and she slipped climbing over one, scraping her forearm and knee,

“Fuck,” the umbrella slipped from her grip and the rain ripped against her, soaking her immediately and Cait blessed her waterproof mascara, “Hey!” She waved at the divers in the water, the four of them struggling to get the barrels over to the shore, “Here!” Dean reached up from the water and took her outstretched arms, letting her take all his weight and hoist him up onto the shore,

“Jesus, you’re strong Cait,” he shouted over the rain driving into them in wide, white sheets, “You lift fridges in your spare time?”

“Just dwarves m’fraid,” she replied, slapping his shoulder and grabbing onto Ken’s fist, finding him to be a little lighter and he thanked her graciously. The three of them all struggled to pull Stephen Hunter from his barrel, the extra prothstetics and fat suit proving to be difficult even with the diver pushing from behind,

“Ow - fuck!” Her voice was shrill in the wind, ankle giving out from beneath her and she slid on to her back, leg splashing into the water and Dean yanked the back of her top, the material ripping with the strain of pulling her up,

“Okay?” He watched as she righted herself calmly, checking her ankle and hands, nodding with a bright smile,

“Most fun I’ve had in weeks,” they managed to get Stephen up and the dwarves turned back to continue helping, “No, you’re latex is going to disintegrate and my prothstetics are going to be ruined, if they aren’t already - get going,” they didn’t question her, eyeing the rippling muscles of her back exposed by the rips in her shirt, arms reaching over to pull a diver from the water. Cait soldiered on, helping hoist barrels from the river and setting up a snake line to have them transported into the trucks they arrived in, making sure everything was organised and safe. Adam insisted he didn’t need help but slipped and swore colourfully when he tried pulling the barrel after him, sulking when Cait laughed at him. The others all accepted her help gratefully, even the divers and their heavy equipment grasped her hand with a strange level of trust, expressing their disbelief at that amount of strength in such a petit woman. Cait couldn’t help but shine at their praises, even if they could be taken as an insult; the admission that they’d all underestimated her was something she would take to her grave.

“C’mon Thorin,” he was the last dwarf to emerge from the river, “I’ve never been wetter, and I’ve been on an excavation in Brazil,” Richard’s laugh boomed with the thunder overhead, lightning cracking the sky in two and he slapped their fists together, the silicon slipping with the rain and for a heart stopping moment, as he struggled out of the barrel; Caitriona lost his grip. His arms flailed and his body threatened to careen backwards onto the lone diver, but her fingers clawed into his tunic and yanked him into her, stumbling from the force,

“Oh my - fuck,” she blinked up at him, breath warm and quick against her face, “Thought I’d lost you Richard,”

“Never,” that word he gave her held a promise, one that made her forget what Agatha had told her earlier and his hands squeezed her biceps. They parted when the diver swore loudly, the barrel attempting to roll back into the river and Caitriona abandoned Richard’s embrace, turning back into the caretaker and sending him a look that had him lifting the barrel from her grip while she dealt with the diver. Beyond them, the crew had packed up the stations and gazeboes, waving for them to hurry up and three assistants ushered Richard away, a second diver coming to help his colleague,

“They’re wrapping up till this clears up, probably will leave tomorrow cause this ain’t gonna be here in a few hours,” the diver took off his slippered and gestured to the rockery upon which they sat, “Go get warm and dry darlin’, you’ve done more than enough,”

Caitriona nodded and retreated to the warmth of her car, turning the fan right up and wrapping a blanket round her shoulders; but even after Brian shoved a cup of coffee into her hands when she returned to the trailer, she couldn’t stop shivering,

“You go for a swim or something?” He asked, accepting a handful of fake noses from an assistant who rocked up to the door, “Who’s are these?” The young girl listed off four names through chattering lips and disappeared, “Everyone’s come by to get dressed down, why don’t you go have a shower, sort yourself out?” Brian eyed the rips in her top and the scrapes on her hands,

“Let me just wash up, my stuff got so muddy,” she pointed to where her sodden bag sat on one of the chairs, brush heads soaked and pallets of pigment transformed to paint, “I’ll see you tomorrow, pack and then leave yeah? Afternoon departure because of the storm,” Brian nodded, finishing his own hot drink and leaving it at the sink, shrugging on his rain jacket, “See you,” the door slammed shut from the wind and suddenly, Caitriona was very alone.

With the rain and the howling wind battering the trailer, she unloaded her bag; setting the brushes on towels and dabbing at the pigments with blotting paper until they were drier than before. Caitriona hummed to herself, flipping her speaker on and playing some quiet music to distract herself from the deafening silence that surrounded her, swaying her hips to the pulsing rhythm. Her clothes were still soaking, clinging to her skin and she took off her boots, dragging her shirt over her head and hissing from the graze on her forearm when the fabric caught on her shoulder, hearing the tell tale rattle of someone trying to open the door.

“Wait - hang on,” Cait tried to wriggle out of the sticky garment, sucking in a breath and pausing her movements when she sensed someone standing behind her, “Um, who is it? I can’t see -,”

Wide hands spread over the planes of her back, warmth spreading round her hips and tickling her ribs,

“Just me,” Richard ran his fingers up her shoulders and pulled the shirt off, draping it over the back of a chair, “I came to drop off some stuff,” meaning his prothstetic hands and whatever was left of his latex add-ons,

“That all?” The bravery of Maggie’s earlier encouragements returned to her mind and Caitriona let herself press against his hands, drifting round to her midriff and settling over her belly,

“No,” his face fell to the dip of her shoulder, fingers tugging her back into his chest, “Came to see if you were okay, saw you fall,”

Their breaths picked up in sync, panting and stuttering against each other, the swell of Cait’s breasts threatening the confines of her bra, and Richard noticed,

“S’nice of you,” she almost hiccuped when his mouth draw up the column of her throat, teeth scraping her pulse, “I’m - I’m real good now,”

“Hm,” those fingers drew lines up and down her ribs, straying closer and closer to her bra, nails catching on the lace, “You showed your quality out there, ordering everyone around - looks good on you,”

“Someone had to,” she rolled her hips back into his, swaying along to the music that continued playing softly in the background, something dark and sensual echoing through the speakers, “Felt good y’know, kind of a power trip,” Cait wound an arm up around his head, trapping his lips beneath her jaw and he hummed again, “Would you do as I say? Indulge me a little?”

“I’d do anything you want,” Richard replied breathlessly, fingers gripping her breast and he turned his head to hers, “And so much more,”

They licked into each other, Cait moaning instantly at the contact, hips still careening into his and Richard grunted, spinning her to kiss her properly. Falling into a shockingly familiar rhythm, he pressed her back into the counter, lifting her and slotting between her thighs,

“Yeah?” He encouraged when Cait mewled, fingers diving beneath his shirt and finding his skin was still damp, but warm, from a shower most likely and she shivered into him, revelling in the bare skin she found when she removed that damn shirt. Usually, Cait would find a pretty bra or something soft to touch, lips smacking when all she found was hardness and hair but splaying her hands against his pecs even so, enjoying the difference.

“I like this,” Cait admitted in a whisper and Richard swallowed her lips again, fisting her wet hair and pressing against her lower back, so her hips curled into his, “Don’t stop,”

“Not planning on it,” he huffed, voice rough and deep, causing her thighs to clamp around his waist and her fingers went to clasp of her bra, shaking a little and stumbling on the catch.

 _Own it_. _Own him._

Cait’s surge of confidence sent the offending garment to the chair with their shirts and she pressed against the length of him, fingers digging into his back and tipping her head back, letting him look at her. Those eyes, usually cold and blue were black, inky and alluring, admiring her tense courage and Richard rolled back, just a little, so he was able to look at her fully.

_I have the power here. Fucking own it._

Cait’s hands deftly undid his belt, dipping below the waistband of his jeans and his chest exploded with a great breath, slamming his fists on to the counter either side of her hips and she jumped at his aggression, but her ministrations didn’t falter.

“Don’t start something you can’t stop,” Richard pressed his forehead against hers, “I want you, all of you, and not just for tonight,”

“What makes you think I don’t want this to go further? You want me? You have me for the long run Richard,” something in his neck jumped when she said his name and he fumbled with her trousers, stepping away and pulling them down her legs, tugging harder when the wet fabric caught over her knees. Her knickers disappeared in the same way and the look Richard gave her, eyes hooded and clouded, jaw tight and veins throbbing in his arms; Cait punted her hips forward,reclined against the fogged mirror and let her thighs fall open,

“C’mere,” she barely saw his lips move to form the words, falling to his knees before her and sliding an arm behind her, shuffling her to the edge of the counter, “Wanting to taste you all day,”

“Oh my god,” Cait knew this move, having done it many times before because she knew she was good at it, getting thighs to shake either side of her head and hands to grip at her hair. Only her first girlfriend had done it in return, and it had taken her over twenty minutes to orgasm because of their inexperience and since then, Cait insisted on doing the eating rather than be eaten.

It took Richard exactly two minutes to get her to orgasm, mouth open in a silent scream and entire body erupting in tiny spasms. One of her arms cradled her head against the mirror and the other threaded through his hair, legs thrown over his shoulders,

“That’s it girl,” he encouraged, fingers digging into her breast and into her cunt, “Want another?”

“God yes, please,” Cait was never one to beg, “Please Richard, then come here, I wanna taste you,”

Three minutes later and he stretched his legs out with a laugh, cupping his chin and thumbing tears from her cheeks, kissing her lightly,

“You okay?” Richard gazed at her heaving chest, spattered with patches of pink and his mouth gravitated towards her breast, gentle and soothing. Cait readjusted herself against him, straightening her back and lifting her arms in a stretch, back arching into his mouth,

“Yeah, I’m - that was so good,” he released one nipple and went for the other, fingers spreading over her thighs, “Usually I’m the one on my knees, fucking nearly broke my record,” her post-orgasmic delirium was making her confident, blunt with her words and giving him a taste of what came before him,

“Oh? And what’s that record?” If she was surprised at his lusting curiosity, Cait didn’t let him know, “How long’s it taken you to get a woman to come?”

“Two minutes, no lie,” her smugness made him chuckle darkly, jaw squaring and hips bucking when he imagined her on her belly between another girl’s thighs, hair pulled from her face by delicate fingers and lips knowing exactly what they were doing, “You like the thought of that huh? What is it with guys and threesomes?”

Richard kissed her wantonly, “How ‘bout we beat that record of yours?” Those lips traced down her naval and over her belly, only stopped at her pubic bone by her hands, halting his head in it’s tracks,

“Later,” blush lifted at her cheeks, “Can we -? I wanna - inside me,”

“Fuck darling,” Richard cupped her jaw and slotted his fingers against her throat, rolling his hips into hers, the hard fabric of his jeans sending flutters into her gut and Cait shuddered, gasping and rutting back. She helped him out of his trousers, fingers brushing him and pulling him into her, “You sure you’ve never done this?”

“Not with a real one,” there was something wicked beneath the nerves and Richard slung her thigh into the crook of his elbow, lining himself up and taking a firm hold of her hip as he slid in. That hand moved to Cait’s shoulder, then to her throat, thumb pressing to her bottom lip and he jolted when her tongue darted out and licked it,

“Oh - fuck - Richard,”

They kissed, all tongue and teeth, fingers bruising skin and nails scraping muscle. Cait’s teeth dug into his thumb on her lip and she choked out a moan when Richard squeezed a little harder against her windpipe, picking up the pace and angling her hips up to meet his more directly. He caged her against the mirror, dipping a hand to her arse and dragging her against him harder and harder,

“Cait,” Richard’s grunt into her neck had her mewling, clawing at his back and at the tendons rippling beneath his skin, teeth nipping at the shell of his ear to try and make him make another noise. And Richard did not disappoint, gasping against her mouth when she canted her hips up further, hands dragging round his lower back and forcing into her harder, “Fuck,”

“Yeah?” Cait repeated what he said to her earlier and Richard tried to smile, hoisting her into him so she was barely touching the counter, one of her hands slamming on to the surface to keep balance, back arching and crying out, thick fingers thrumming against her clitoris deftly. The orgasm came as fast as the other two, washing over her and Cait bit the skin of her hand to stop herself screaming, arm wrapped tightly around Richard’s neck, an anchor back to reality where he was still pounding into her with a wild abandon,

“C’mon,” her voice was breathless in his ear, “You don’t hav’ta pull out,”

“Fuck darlin’, you’re going to kill me,” Richard snapped his hips once, twice, and then squeezed the skin of her shoulder and back so hard she hissed in pain, resting his forehead against her throat. He kissed a bead of sweat off her collar bone and ran his fingers up her spine languidly,

“I think, maybe - I may have been missing out on a few things,” Cait carded her fingers through his hair, “Might have to open my mind up a bit more,” she lifted his head after they’d caught their breaths and they kissed slowly,

“I’d be happy to help,” he said against her lips and Cait smiled,

“You’re the only one I want to help,”


End file.
